


Save the First Dance

by Malakia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Historical Fantasy, I'm Sorry, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Oblivious!Hashirama, Oblivious!Obito, Sorry Not Sorry, don't really know how to tage this, friends to partners, really fluffy at the end, writing Oblivious!Obito was way too much fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 04:39:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16055720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malakia/pseuds/Malakia
Summary: It was tradition that in order for the monarch to propose and pronounce his consort, they must either dance with the person at the beginning or the end of the Royal Ball. And this must be done by the age of 30, or they would have to abate the throne.It is the final Royal Ball for King Hashirama to make his choice, and Commander Obito is dreading every second to the moment. For as long as he could remember, he has always been in love with the king. But there were so many obstacles in his way with a war and laws that forbidden such a relationship.But now, those things are no more, and Obito has to watch as Hashirama chooses his spouse. While he would forever pine, it would be okay, because as long as Hashirama was happy, that is all that mattered.





	Save the First Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to those that saw this posted before. I used the draft system for the first time on AO3 and just figured out it posted the work at a later date than today :P

Obito smiled as the wind hit his face as Kamui, his horse, raced through the thick forests around the Capital City of Konoha. Overhead, the tops of the trees were so thickly woven together that the sun couldn’t even penetrate them, save for a few areas. It protected him from the extreme heat of summer by making the area cool.

There was no path to follow, so he guided Kamui around the larger roots and trunks. Unlike other horses, Kamui was the fastest mare of the bunch and able to run at top speeds without problems, even in the tightest of quarters. She could move from one place to another with the greatest of ease. Even some superstitious individuals said that she had the ability to teleport.

And while normally Obito would have loved to take her out to run through the forest like this, today he was actually on an unofficial mission.

He breezed past the trees until he came to an open area. A river cut through it, coming from a waterfall at the cliffside. He guided Kamui towards the waterfall, following the river bank, until his one dark eye- the other covered by an eye patch for a wound that was caused by an accident in his cadet years- caught sight of brown stallion eating grass by one of the trees, not far away from the base of the waterfall.

Knowing then his target was nearby, he slowed Kamui down to a trot and casually approached the brown stallion. The horse merely flicked his ears and tail but made no move to bolt, even when Obito stopped Kamui and swung off her.

He rubbed her side and up all the way until he was at her head. She knickered and ears flickered when Obito kissed the top of her crest on her forehead. “Keep Mokuton out of trouble,” he laughed with one final pat before he began to walk away, leaving the two horses to graze.

His feet carried him toward the plunge pond, his steps light and practically skipping. He smirked when he saw his quarry, hidden behind some of the larger rocks.

There, King Hashirama of the House of Senju- Ruler over all Konoha, was laid out on one of the large rocks, all relaxed, arms crossed under his head, with a content smile of his face. But the other man wasn’t unprepared, the sword by his side unsheathed and at the ready if any enemies approached. Still, Obito’s breath caught at the sight and his face grew hot at seeing his king’s chest was bare, tan skin glistening in the sun.

The Uchiha shook his head and paused in his walking. He looked away and took a deep breath, allowed himself a moment for his face to not be so warm and red. Only when he was sure he would give nothing away, did he continue his approach. Yet while outside he looked friendly and carefree, he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach that increased with every step.

Hashirama made no motion to move even when Obito came to stand over him, feet planted on either side the other man’s head. “You know,” Obito began as he placed his hands on his hips and leaned over for his shadow to block the older man’s face, “it’s not very kingly of you to run off from your duty.”

Hashirama’s smile grew a little on his face but he didn’t open his eyes. “Today all kingly duties are on hold,” he easily countered. “Since everyone is getting ready for the Royal Ball,  _Commander_.”

Obito rolled his eye at the playful tone. “Which is also something  _you_ need to be getting ready for,  _Your Grace._ ”

Hashirama finally opened his eyes, and Obito had to remind himself to breath evenly. “Only when it’s closer to the time,” he responded with a wink. “And it’s still hours away.”

Obito smirked. “And the Head Seamstress is bothering your brother about your whereabouts,” the Uchiha laughed easily. He only laughed harder when he saw Hashirama wince. “Someone has been putting it off for too long.”

“It’s so boring,” Hashirama whined even as be moved to sit up. “And she isn’t the kindest when it comes to those pins.”

“Tell me about it.” Obito moved so the both of them could look at each other as they laughed. He determinedly did not admire how Hashirama’s long hair flowed so beautifully down his back, how silky and soft it looked, and how he wanted to run his fingers through it.

“I’m surprised,” Hashirama said, bringing Obito’s attention back, “that Tobirama didn’t want to send out an entire party to come search for me.”

“No,” Obito huffed, “that would have been Madara.”

Hashirama threw his head back in with a gleeful laugh and bright smile, and Obito tried not to wince. At the mention of his best friend’s name, Hashirama’s eyes lit up in a way that Obito only wished the other man would look at him. The butterflies turned into solid feeling in the pit of his stomach, that stayed even when he pushed dark thoughts away. He smiled through the pain in his heart, taking a moment to admire the beauty of his king before the man looked at him again.

“He would,” Hashirama agreed. “Luckily, you always seem to know where to find me.”

Obito huffed again, thankful for the change in topic. “You’re not a hard man to figure out,” he pointed out while Hashirama stood up. “It’s just easier for me since we’ve known each other for so long.” The Senju was older than him by two years. That meant they had spent many years together as children, running around and causing mischievous in the Palace.

Hashirama smirked. “I like to think that I still have some secrets, Sir Sweets,” the older man chuckled with a wink.

Obito felt his face flushed red while a warm feeling settled in his chest and moved up to try and escape his mouth. He brought his fist up and coughed into it to quell the urge. He cast his eye aside when Hashirama began to laugh again. “You know,” he tried to nonchalantly say and failed, “that I have long since grown out of that nickname.”

Hashirama’s smirk grew. “That’s not what Kakashi said when you snuck into the kitchen last week to try the new desserts for tonight.”

Obito let out a sound that was similar to a strangled cat while his eye grew wide as he snapped his gaze at Hashirama. “Lies!” he shouted while he bared his teeth. “All lies!”

The Senju threw his head back in roaring laughter before he wrapped an arm around Obito’s shoulders and pulled him close. The Uchiha let out a sound of protest even while his face grew impossibly more hot. This close, he could now smell the dirt and fresh plant scent that always seemed to be permanently on Hashirama’s skin. It reminded Obito, not of the finely trimmed gardens of the Palace, but of an open field of flowers or a deep forest, something wild and free.

When he placed his hands on Hashirama’s chest to push himself away, the skin was warm and firm. He resisted the urge to run his hands over it, to savor the hard muscles under soft skin, as his heart beat frantically in his chest.

So close, he wondered if Hashirama could feel it. Obito hoped his king wouldn’t as he pushed back until the older man’s hand lingered on his shoulder. His face was still hot as they both looked at each other and the Uchiha felt his breath hitch.

The look in Hashirama’s eyes were so soft and warm, the afternoon sun catching in the dark orbs. He wore a small smile, something Obito had only seen in private that was nothing like the older man’s bright and cheerful ones. It spoke of a secret and of a indulgence that the Uchiha tried not to look hard into.

Obito tore his gaze away, or else he would be tempted to fall back into his king’s embrace and kiss those lips.

He felt Hashirama’s hand squeeze his shoulder before it fell away. Obito repressed a shudder as it brushed down his shoulder rather than being lifted away. Again, the younger man tried not to look too much into it, tried not to see if it meant more than it was. Afterall, Hashirama was a very friendly man.

“Obito.” The younger man jumped a little before he glanced at Hashirama. His throat grew tight as he saw his king still wore that open, warm expression. It left Obito to wonder if there was more to it than he thought, if maybe he  _should_ look into it. Then the expression disappeared as Hashirama’s face grew a little dark and a sheepish smile crossed his lips.

Obito wasn’t sure what to make of Hashirama when the older man casted his eyes aside and stood up straighter. “I was...,” he began as he shifted back and forth on his feet while he brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I was wondering... wondering if you would still- still dance with me tonight. The First Dance?”

Obito’s one eye blinked rapidly as he processed the words. While he was silent, Hashirama’s face grew a darker shade as he kept shifting unsteadily, sometimes glancing at Obito.

The First Dance and Last Dance were very important events at the Royal Ball. It would be the time when the reigning monarch would propose and announce to the Court and Land of their intended spouse by dancing a full dance with them. It didn’t matter which one, or both, as long as the monarch held one full dance with their chosen.

It was also traditionally held, that if the monarch had no one, then they could dance either with family or a close friend, be it male or female. The dance partner would only dance with the ruler halfway, making no mistake of the intention of marriage. For years, ever since they were children and the time following the war, Obito had always danced with Hashirama for the First Dance since Madara refused to. Though his older cousin ended up always dancing with Hashirama in the Last Dance.

Obito’s eye narrowed and he bit his bottom lip. He refused to acknowledge the warm, hopeful feeling that was in his chest. “Don’t you..,” he asked slowly, “don’t you want to dance with... with your potential spouse?” He intentionally didn’t mention Madara’s name. The thought alone left his chest feeling tight. “It’s the last chance for you. If you don’t choose a bride you will have to give up the throne.” He paused as he saw how Hashirama’s face fell.

“Or groom,” Obito added quickly with a lick of his lips to wet them. “After all, the laws were changed over a year ago thanks to you.”

Hashirama chuckled softly as his arm fell to his side. His eyes looked down at his feet for a moment before he gazed up at Obito, face less red. “I merely put the idea out,” he demurely pointed out with shrug. “It was everyone else who agreed that the laws should be changed.”

Obito snorted, scrunching his face for a moment. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he said. The two of them made eye contact and Obito smirked. “You and I both know that those old idiots on the Council would never had changed the laws if anyone else had purposed it. You fought so hard for that change; there is a reason you are called ‘The Heart of the People.’ You fight for what everyone actually wants.”

Hashirama stared at him with wide eyes. Obito swallowed and knew he could have ended it there but... decided to go on. Because Hashirama never gave himself as much credit as he deserved. “People listen to you,” he added. “And not just because you’re the king but because you just... you just have a  _way_ about you that makes people want to listen and believe.” His cheeks started to burn as Hashirama continued to stare at him. Obito bit his bottom lip, heartbeat loud in his ears. He used a finger to scratch at the side of his face.

“But more important than that,” he finished as he casted his eye to look anywhere but at his king, “you always look out for what your people want and what is right. Then you fight for it, to make it a reality. Not many people have that ability.

“And what I am saying is, that you shouldn’t downplay what you’ve done. You made so many people happy and hopeful. Just... don’t let those old idiots take that away from you.”

Obito’s heart was pounding at the end of his sudden speech. He cursed himself silently at letting that all out. He just wanted to make a point but let out more than he intended. Perhaps the stress of avoiding the Senju this week was finally getting to him.

He shifted on his feet, the silence that greeted him at the end of what he said was eating at his insides. And just when he thought he couldn’t handle it anymore, a hand wrapped around his wrist.

His eye snapped to meet Hashirama and his breath caught. It was like looking at the sun with how bright the older man’s eyes and smile were. They were wide and warm, almost blinding. “Thank you,” he whispered as he squeezed Obito’s wrist. “I’m happy to know you feel that way.”

Obito felt his cheeks heat up even more and moved his free hand to rub the back of his neck. “Well... I’m just saying what everyone is thinking,” he muttered.

“Not many have the courage to,” Hashirama pointed out as he gave Obito’s wrist one last squeeze before he let go. To the Uchiha, it felt like a invisible brand on his skin.

“But,” Hashirama gently chided as he reached down for his sword, “calling the elders on the Council ‘old idiots’ isn’t good. They are wise but just stuck in their ways.” He smiled and then slowly began to walk towards the horses. “And if they heard you say that, you could get in some serious trouble.”

“What are they going to do?” Obito snorted as he fell in step with the older man. “There’s no war now to send me off to.”

His king smirked, even if the light in his eyes dimmed a little. “They could confide you to your estate for a month.”

Hashirama laughed as Obito blanched at the idea, but the Commander was happy to see the light return in his orbs to full strength.  

When the two of them were saddled up, Hashirama, now with a shirt on, reached out and caught Obito’s arm. The Uchiha looked at him with a tilt of his head. “You never did answer my question,” his king reminded him. “Will you give me the honor of dancing with me for the First Dance?”

Obito bit his bottom lip, torn. He should say no, but there was a certain glint in Hashirama’s eyes that looked suspiciously looked like pleading mixed with something else he couldn’t quite place. How could he ever say no to that?

Heart picking up a little pace again, he asked, “Like usually?”

Hashirama’s eyes tightened for a fraction of a second before easing. “If that is what you want.”

Obito bit his tongue to stop himself from saying what he actually wanted. “I’m your friend,” and hated himself at how he missed his king’s touch when the older man let go of his arm. “I’ll do whatever it is your feel comfortable with.”

Hashirama opened his mouth but then stopped and slowly closed it. He stared at Obito with an expression the younger man couldn’t read but made him shiver and his chest tighten. His king then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

When he opened them again, he smiled but it wasn’t big or bright. It was small and almost wistful. “Then I look forward to our dance.”

Obito gave a weak smile back and nodded.

When the two of them rode off, he tried not to focus on the solid feeling that settled in his gut that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

 

* * *

 

Obito sighed as he stared at the setting sun. Behind him, the Ball started to get lively and soon the First Dance was going to begin. He escaped most of the crowd for now by ducking out onto a balcony that had a wonderful view of city below but knew he couldn’t stay here for long.

He closed his eye and let the quiet comfort him. He wondered if dancing with Hashirama was the right thing to do. He wouldn’t back out now but deep down he really just wanted to stay hidden and not attend the Ball at all. He didn’t think he could handle seeing Madara and Hashirama dancing together- most likely the Last Dance- and would announce to the world that the older Uchiha would be his king’s consort. It made his chest tighten at the very thought.

“Maa, here you are.” Obito blinked, pulled out of his thoughts, and turned to see his best friend and right hand man, Kakashi, strolling toward him, alone.

Obito raised an eyebrow. “Surprised Gai isn’t by your side right now.”

“I’m still very sneaky when I want to be,” the silver haired man replied mysteriously. He smiled, this time Obito could see it since he wasn’t wearing his signature mask.

The dark haired man stared at the scarred man for a moment before he smirked. “Got tired of being gawked at by those old idiots?”

Kakashi sighed heavily. “They act like they never seen a recently married couple before,” he said flippantly as he came to rest his lower back against the railing and folded his arms over his chest.

The Uchiha snorted. “Well, you and Gai certainly make a pair.”

Kakashi hummed in agreement. He then glanced at Obito out of the corner of his eye. “I heard you will be dancing with the King,” he commented casually.

Obito looked at his best friend but his expression was frustratingly neutral. The dark haired man frowned and narrowed his eye unsure of the answer he should give. Sometimes it was trying to navigate a minefield with him. Obito decided it was best to follow the truth.

“I am,” he replied carefully. He shrugged, the medals on his dress uniform jingling slightly. “But it’s like normal.”

Kakashi sighed and it made Obito bristle. “If you got something to say Bakashi,” he snapped, “then fucking say it.”

“Now where would be the fun in that?” the other man teased, still slacked. Still, his eyes were sharp when he turned his head to look at Obito.

He remained silent, and each second that ticked by only grated on the Uchiha’s nerve. But if it is a game of patience that Kakashi wanted to play then he would give back as good as he got. He had changed a lot since his childhood in that regard.

Then Kakashi tilted his head to the side and looked at his best friend very carefully. “...You’re really not going to fight for it,” he stated flatly.

Obito grimaced, his chest becoming tighter. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied quickly as he turned his head away.

“Maa, but I know you do.” Obito’s jaw clenched because he knew that tone. The one where it sounded bored but where Kakashi was now going in for the kill. He didn’t have to look at him to know that his best friend had leveled a strong gaze at him.

“You’re really going to let Hashirama marry someone else when you are so hopelessly in love with him.”

It took everything in Obito to not flinch. It felt like he had been stabbed in the chest and it nearly left him gasping. Because it was one thing to think those thoughts; it was another thing entirely to hear the words ringing in his ears, left hanging in the air.

The Uchiha took a deep breath and refused to speak. They both remained silent and it gave Obito time to slowly patch the wound the words left. His chest ached but slowly it died down to a mild throb. He felt like he could breath easily again.

“You know,” he tried to joke, though it came out more biting than he intended. He put on a blithely smile as he looked back at his best friend. “Just because your married now doesn’t mean you should butt into your single friend’s lives. It’s very rude.”

He expected to hear a small quirp and it would put an end to the conversation as it had done in the past. Instead, a simple word made him realize that this apparently was far from over.

“Obito.” Kakashi straightened, not enough to come out of his habitual slack, but enough to let Obito know that this topic was serious. The dark haired man dropped his smile while the other man stared at him, eyes flat but assessing. “...It’s not like you to not fight for something.”

Obito shifted but before he could speak, Kakashi continued, “You survived a war. Survived things that would have broken any other man. Fought to gain the recognition of your House and the respect of the people of this country.” He raised a fine eyebrow. “Some would even say you’re a hero.” Then he paused before finishing,

“So I can’t understand why, on this  _one thing,_ you refuse to fight for it.”

Obito ducked his head with a weak smile. Kakashi didn’t give speeches but when he did speak, actually speak and not tease, he always cut straight to the point. Obito’s eye softened as he stared down at the railing, the polished marble catching the last rays of the sun.

“...He would be happy,” he finally whispered. He put his hand on the railing, cleaned a smudge that really wasn’t there. “The way he acts around Madara- the way his eyes light up at just the name- he would be happy. Why would I try to take that away from him? Why would I make that more difficult for him when there were so many obstacles that stopped him before?”

“...Like you did for Rin?”

Obito did flinch at that, air knocked out of him. He snapped his head to look at the silver haired man with a slack jaw and wide eye. He saw that except for the tightness around the eyes and mouth, Kakashi’s face remained mostly the same.

One of the Commander’s hands came up to his chest and bunched the fabric over his aching heart. Feeling the sting of tears in his one eye, he shut it tight and tried to gain a semblance of control over himself as he took a deep breath. He hadn’t started to shake but it was a near thing.

When his chest and throat weren’t so constricted, he pulled his bravery together and looked back at Kakashi again. “...That’s a low blow,” he said, voice thick but strong. “Even for you.”

The other man conceded the point with a nod of his head. “But no less true.” While he spoke about it casually, his voice was strained and Obito could sense the hint of hurt and regret hidden underneath.

Obito looked away to look out at the city again, eye softening as old memories resurfaced. Rin’s happy smile, her soft and healing hands, and her chiding tone when Obito pushed himself too far.

Hashirama may be his greatest love, but he was by no means the first. That honor  belonged to Rin, a long childhood friend. His love for her was nothing in comparison to Hashirama’s, Obito knew; it was the love of a child, but it was his first. Even when they grew up and went through their military training, he still held onto it because of its’ purity, as he also slowly began to fall in love with the older Senju.

But Rin had loved another, someone who was from a different country and had met when she had visited the place. So Obito had pushed back the idea of courting her to the back of his mind because of how much she gushed and lit up at the mention of the man.

And it was good. Even when his heart ached and he was confused about his budding feelings toward his king, it was good because Rin was  _happy._ Especially when she announced her engagement.

Then... then it all went bad. No,  _horrible._ Obito frowned from an old ache, a dull burn, in his chest that would never go away whenever he thought about her during  _that_ time. War broke out between the two countries and everything was thrown into chaos. And while he tried to protect her from the enemies when they fought, how could he protect her from the person that claimed that he loved her?

It was a betrayal to the highest degree. Kakashi and Rin had been sent on a seperate mission from him and fell back to her fiance’s safe house. He was supposed to be their ally, but he turned on them and handed the entire squad over to the enemy. They were held captive and tortured.

What had hurt the most was when they had rescued his two friends. Many men and women- comrades- lost their lives to save as many of the captured prisoners as they could and in the end in had been the three of them: Kakashi, Rin, and himself. Rin was too badly injured in the rescue and had begged for her death, rather than fall back into enemy hands. Obito refused for the longest until it became apparent that they wouldn’t make it if they had to drag her along.

It was the first time that Obito really understood the horrors of war, even after his own ordeal of his right side. Looking into her eyes as she begged him to kill her while the enemy approached. His own heart breaking as tears fell down his face in ugly sobs.

In the end, he couldn’t do it; Kakashi did it- though it wasn’t without his own tears and softly broken apologies. When it was over, the two of them ran and didn’t speak about it.

The events of that night had put a large strain on their personal and working relationship. It had taken many years for either of them to learn how to not only forgive the other, but also themselves.

Luckily, they had friends that loved and cared for them to help the process along. For Kakashi, it was Gai; for Obito, it was, surprisingly, Hashirama.

But the subject of Rin, though an old wound, was still touchy between the two of them. Seldom did they speak about that night, not because they wanted to forget it but because old emotions and aches would return each time that reminded both of them of darker times. They only talked about the happy times with her, before the war and everything.

So for Kakashi to bring her up  _that_ way, in subject to Obito’s lack of initiative in his love life and reminded them both of the fallout, left Obito reeling for a moment.

“That’s different-” he tried to begin once he felt like he was in control.

“Is it?” Kakashi cut off, challenging him. “You let her go. And she  _was_ very happy. But then everything happened. What’s to say something terrible won’t happen while Hashirama is with Madara? Would you rather it be him by his Majesty’s side? Or you?”

And that was one of cruxes of the problem, wasn’t it? Because the answer would always be that  _he_ wanted to be by his king’s side. Not just as a friend and subordinate, like a bodyguard, but as his confidante, spouse, and lover. He knew what he was capable of, having made commander in the military in such a short span. Knew that when it boiled down to it, he would have felt better if anything were to happen to Hashirama, he could be there to protect the other man.

But Madara, as Lord Commander and second highest power in the Land, had proven on more than enough occasions that he was equally as capable- maybe more- than Obito was.

Before the dark haired man could reply, Gai stepped out onto the balcony. “My darling!” he greeted as he bounded over to the two, eyes only on Kakashi.

The silver haired man turned, blinked for a moment, before he smiled, one easy and light that he only seemed to reserve for Gai.

Obito snorted with a shake of his head but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Kakashi turned his head and raised an eyebrow at him as Gai wrapped his an arm around his waist and proceeded to kiss the side of his head. “So this is where you wondered off to,” he said to his husband then turned his head to flash Obito a dashing smile. Then he frowned, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Are you well, Commander?” he asked as he leaned forward. “You’re looking a little pale.”

The Uchiha just shook his head. “I’m fine,” Obito quickly reassured with a shrug of his shoulders. The dull burn he felt was slowly dying away, so there was some truth to his statement. He leveled Gai with a steady gaze. “And what did I tell you about calling me ‘Commander’ when we’re alone. You  _can_ call me by my name.”

Gai laughed. “But we’re not alone,” he reminded with a wave toward the Ball Room. “It is only youthful of me to call you by your hard earned title.”

Obito rolled his eye while Kakashi chuckled.

“Speaking of the party,” Gai continued. He pointed a finger at Obito. “His Majesty is looking for you. It is almost time for the First Dance.” He smiled brightly, eyes flashing in excitement.

“Tonight maybe the night for you, Commander!” he laughed while he did is typical thumbs up pose.

Even though he felt his stomach drop, Obito sent a short glare at Kakashi.

The silver haired man shrugged. “You’re not very subtle with your affections,” he pointed out. “Not my fault Gai figured it out years ago.”

The Uchiha made a strangled noise in the back of his throat while Gai laughed loudly again.

“I hate the both of you,” Obito hissed as he started to stalk away.

“Maa,” Kakashi drawled as he and Gai fell in step behind. “Sure you do.”

Obito just looked back over his shoulder and sent his best friend a quick glare before he walked away without as much as a goodbye.

The ballroom floor had cleared since he went outside, leaving the outer areas crowded with spectators. Obito didn’t want to feel open and exposed by passing through the wide area, so made his way amongst the crowd. Still, people parted easily enough for him with polite greetings and nods.

He wished they had made it more difficult for him though. Each step he took weighed more and more as the feeling in his stomach grew into nausea. It was at odds with his thundering heart in his chest and it took everything he had in him to keep his expression pleasant.

Finally, he made his way to a platform that had been erected on one side of the room. On it, two chairs sat close to one another: one for Hashirama and the other for his chosen.

Obito tried not to think about Madara sitting in it.

As he approached, he spotted a small group at the bottom of the platform consisting of Hashirama, Madara, and Tobirama, his king’s brother and advisor.

All three of them looked outstanding, Madara in his dress uniform while Tobirama and Hashirama wore their regal attire. Madara’s outfit was similar to what Obito wore but trimmed in gold rather than white. Tobirama wore his typical blue colors, coat and pants accented with gold and black, wearing a green cross body sash and a gold circlet.

But to Obito, Hashirama outshined them both. His hair was pulled back in a low half ponytail, showing off his strong face that had an easy smile, and wore a more ornate diadem than his brother. He wore a cream colored coat and pants, trimmed with gold along the cuffs. A green cross body sash finished the look, dressed on the left shoulder and held in place by a sigil pin of a full grown tree with deep roots, a symbol for the House of Senju.

Despite his bodies other reactions, his chest felt warm. It settled deep in his chest at seeing the other man and it made Obito smile. Then both the feeling and his grin lessened when Hashirama laughed, loud and bright, at something Madara said and clapped him on the shoulder.

The dark haired man’s chest tightened at seeing how his king’s hand then stayed there as they continued to speak. Still, the younger man was no coward, so persisted on and a forced broader smile than what he felt.

It was Hashirama that spotted him first. His eyes lit up, smile growing, and, happily for Obito, he dropped his hand away from Madara. “Obito!” he greeted as if he hadn’t seen the other just at the beginning of the Ball. He stepped between his two companions to meet the Uchiha halfway. Over his shoulder, both other men looked and at seeing the younger Uchiha developed secret smiles and looks that the Commander couldn’t hope to decipher.

“I thought you might have escaped, Commander,” Hashirama joked with a tilt of his head when they met, drawing Obito’s attention back to him.

Obito huffed, rolling his eye. “As if I could leave you to suffer alone, Your Majesty.”  He tried not to curse and wince at the slip, once he realized what he had said immediately after. The words sounded like a double edged sword, full of more meaning than what his king knew.

Obito swallowed as Hashirama chuckled and offered out his gloved hand, oblivious.

The edges of Hashirama’s eyes were crinkled with dark orbs warm that seemed to set Obito’s chest ablaze while relaxing it at the same time. “Shall we dance?” the older man asked quietly.

Obito’s throat felt tight even while he wanted to laugh. He desired to ask the other man if he was sure, just one last time. But he was only human; if this was the last time he would ever get to dance with his king than he wanted it to last as long as it could. So instead of verbalizing an answer, the Uchiha nodded and placed his hand in Hashirama’s.

The older man led the way out onto the open floor. Immediately, Obito’s skin began to crawl as he felt everyone began to look and watch. He tried not to let it bother him, but even after doing this for some years, it never got any easier. Hashirama seemed quite at ease with it all, but then again, Obito assumed, he had to be since everyone always looked to him as their king.

Hashirama walked them to the center of the dance floor. It was an easy routine to follow after, raising clasped hands as Obito rested one hand on Hashirama’s shoulder. But then things changed.

Hashirama suddenly got closer almost to where their chests were touching, where normally there would still be friendly space between them. And while it made Obito’s stomach jittery, it wasn’t what made his breath catch and his face suddenly gain a light shade of red.

Hashirama’s hand came to rest on his lower back, right at the dip of his spin. He was so used to it coming to hold him at his center back that the new position surprised him.

Instantly, his king noticed. “Does this bother you?” he whispered, voice surprisingly tight.

Did it? Yes, but not for the reasons Hashirama would think.

Obito took a deep breath to steady himself and forced his body to relax. “It’s fine,” he replied after a moment, voice strained.

Hashirama’s lips pressed together. Obito could feel his hand began to move and squeezed his own in warning. Immediately, the Senju’s hand stopped.

“I told you, it’s fine,” the younger man promised, voice stronger. He tried not to let any pleading bleed through because, really, he loved Hashirama’s hand where it was. “I was just taken aback a moment,” he added.

Hashirama’s mouth became apologetic. “Sorry,” he whispered as the music began to start. “I’ll make sure to warn you next time.”

Obito was thankful that the two of them began to move and he had to focus his attention on that, rather than try and understand what his king just said.

With Hashirama leading, they glided across the polished floor, followed the steps to an age old dance. The crowd slowly began to ebb away from Obito’s mind as the two of them moved elegantly in time with the music. He only focused on feeling and seeing Hashirama, on his king’s bright eyes and warm smile.

“Did I tell you,” his king spoke, quietly so only they could hear, “that you look very handsome this evening.”

Obito huffed, feeling his ears get hot. “Only at the very beginning,” he quipped with a smirk. “But then again, it’s really not that hard to look dashing in a military uniform.”

“I don’t know...,” Hashirama drawled, looking as if in thought for a second. Then he looked Obito in the eye with a lopsided grin. “Madara can’t seem to. I think it’s because of his untamable hair.” He giggled at the end.

Obito knew it was only meant to be a joke but it still stabbed at his chest. He was rather proud at how well he kept his face neutral with an amused, if forced, smile. He did wince slightly, but managed to make it look like it was a natural mistake. But he guessed it wasn’t enough to fool Hashirama.

His king suddenly stopped his giggling. The older man’s eyes then furrowed together while he bit his bottom lip.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, tightening his hold on Obito. “You seemed... off just now.” He paused, eyes becoming contemplative before he added slowly, “In fact, you’ve seemed off for almost this whole week.”

Obito couldn’t duck his face like he would’ve liked to in that moment. With so many eyes on them, it might imply things about him and the king. Instead, he forced his face to remain calm and eyed a spot just past Hashirama’s shoulder. He even managed to stop his face from becoming red, only through years of training, but couldn’t stop how hard his heart pounded. He could honestly say, in that moment, how much he hated how the other man could read him.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” he placated but refused to look at the Senju.

Luckily before Hashirama could say anything, they had to do a move where Obito was spun out and away from the older man. In that time, the Commander took the moment to take in a breath that was free of his king’s space and it helped to steady himself. So when Hashirama pulled him back in, delighting Obito to no end that the other man placed his hand back on the Uchiha’s lower back, he found it easier to look at the man’s face.

His king’s eyebrows were drawn together, lips pressed in a thin line. “Maybe I can help,” he offered. He gave a weak smile. “I’ve been told I am a great listener.”

Obito smiled despite how heavy his stomach felt. Before he could respond, he was pushed out again before being pulled back in.

In the split second that he was away, he contemplated how to respond and decided to tell a half truth.

When they returned to their close positions, Obito looked at Hashirama to see the same expression as before. “I don’t think that you can help me with this,” the Uchiha admitted quietly as he casted his eye aside, looking down at his king’s shoulder. There was quiet between the two of them as the Commander refused to raise his gaze.

“Obito.” The Uchiha blinked and then gazed up with a wide eye. He had never heard how pleading his king had said his name before and as he studied his face, it made Obito’s breath catch.

His face was soft all around with only the tension held around his eyes. They were still drawn together, imploring, but his lips were no longer pressed together but slightly parted.

Obito stared as he felt the arm around his waist and his king’s hand squeeze him. “I hate to see you upset,” Hashirama whispered, almost like admitting a secret.

Obito was unsure what to say to that, even when he felt a stinging sensation in his eye. But somehow, Hashirama’s sentiment made his chest feel light and the tips of his lips lifted upward. His eye softened and he squeezed his king right back. “I know... and thank you for that,” he breathed, unsure of what else to say.

They then had to focus on their dancing as they came to a more complex part.

They twisted and turned, going under arms and through complicated steps. But no matter how they moved, Obito always kept an eye on Hashirama’s face. He watched the light catch in his king’s orbs, his eyes relaxing over time. But in its place, they set with new determination, and the Uchiha loved when they crinkled at the edge’s when Hashirama’s lips tilted upward.

When they were finally face to face again, it felt like Hashirama was holding Obito even closer than before, his king’s excitement palpable. “Let’s make a bet,” he offered before Obito could even ask what was on his mind.

Obito’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he raised an eyebrow. “A bet?” he asked flatly.

“Yes,” Hashirama responded with a quick nod. “That way....” he licked his lips, and Obito had to force himself not to follow. “That way you don’t have to tell me what’s on your mind. I would have to guess.”

Obito blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“By the end of the night,” Hashirama presented, “I have to guess an idea about what’s been on your mind. If I guess right- and I mean if I guess most of it right- you have to tell me.” He smiled brightly. “Would that be agreeable?”

Obito eyed his king as he thought about it. He should say no- there was too much risk. At the same time there would be no possible way Hashirama would know what was actually on his mind. And plus, there was a small issue that the Uchiha wanted an answer to that he didn’t think the older man would tell him upfront, willingly.

“You’re really determined about this,” he stated evenly, not yet laying all his cards down.

Hashirama nodded enthusiastically. “I am,” he agreed as they turned. “But you are always free to say no.”

Obito grinned. “I know,” he assured while he squeezed his hands. “But why don’t I add something to it.”

Hashirama’s eyes lit up which made Obito’s grin widen. “Alright,” his king agreed.

“If you  _don’t_ manage to guess right,” the younger man challenged, “then you have to actually tell me how you found out about my sneaky escapade to the kitchens for the sweet test.”

It took everything in Obito to not throw his head back when Hashirama blanched. “I thought you said it was a lie,” the older man whimpered, color draining a little from his face.

Obito chuckled. “And it was your fault for mentioning Kakashi’s name,” he pointed out. “Did you not think I would go and ask him about it?” More like demand, but the Commander didn’t need to mention that.

Hashirama looked to the heaven’s as if praying for mercy which did make Obito snicker.

“You can always say no,” the Uchiha parroted, teasing.

Hashirama’s lips pulled downward as he looked back at Obito. He studied the younger man for a moment.

Obito kept his gaze open as possible before he watched his king’s mouth tilted upward and his eyes lit up again.

“I accept,” Hashirama stated, chest puffed out a little.

Obito raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “You’re very confident,” he teased.

“I  _am_ confident,” Hashirama declared, smile wide and bright.

The younger man huffed with a roll of his eye. “And when you are,” Obito reminded, “your loss rate is, like, 80%.”

“But there still is that 20%!” Hashirama joked back.

At that, the Uchiha couldn’t help but throw his head back and cackled, quickly followed with Hashirama’s answering giggle.

After that the two of them continued to dance and talk cordially, like they would have at any other Ball. It was a relief, really. Obito’s chest felt lighter as they chatted and laughed. He could almost forget where they were and what was supposed to be happening.

But it wasn’t far from his mind, Hashirama’s chosen or their new bet. Sometimes, Hashirama would ask a probing question, trying to make it subtle but Obito caught it every time. He would always redirect it, and it made him grin with the frustrated look Hashirama would get.

When Obito would look away from time to time, around the edges of the dance floor, Obito could see women, and some men, shifting on their feet. They knew, like the younger man did, once Obito stepped away, they would all flock forward, itching to dance with the king. It made Obito’s stomach sick, and he would look back at his king.

And as the music and dance went on, the Commander’s mood began to darken. It was like a shadow, weighing down on his shoulders and making his muscles tight while his answers became quieter and shorter. He knew he wasn’t doing anything to hide his feelings but he at least attempted poor jokes and half smiles.

But he knew Hashirama could sense it to. It was in how tight his arm and hand held him; how rigid and dark his eyes were with each step they took. Even he became more withdrawn from their talks and the Uchiha let it be. Obito wasn’t sure if his behavior was from the thought of dancing with other people, or from something else, and part of him didn’t want to know. If it was about Madara, a topic they had miraculously avoided, then it would only break Obito more.

When it was almost halfway through the dance, their conversations had died down to almost nothing. Obito couldn’t look at Hashirama by this point, or else he was afraid he would do something reckless, and had taken to looking over his king’s shoulder again. He tried to keep his thoughts solely on the dance, so startled when Hashirama’s head suddenly invaded his space, face right next to his ear.

His breath catched and he shivered at how Hashirama’s breath ghosted over outer ear. He bit his bottom lip and almost missed when his king spoke. “Obito?” he whispered and the Uchiha had to hold back a whimper but stiffened.

He took a moment to swallow to wet his throat before he answered with a tight voice. “Yes?”

So close to his body, he felt Hashirama tremble and was unsure what it meant. “Hashirama?” the Commander quietly asked, concerned.

The only response he got was his king hand’s tightening his and the hand at his lower back wrapped around him more.

“Tell me...,” Hashirama said, voice strained and imploring. “Tell me, Obito... do you wish to... stop dancing with me?”

Obito felt his world tilt, literally. He tripped over his feet but Hashirama pulled him closer, closer than they had been the entire evening, and kept them from falling until Obito found his footing.

He felt like he was shaking, and maybe he was, as he stared with a wide eye into Hashirama’s shoulder. “W-what?” he croaked, not fully believed what he had heard.

He felt Hashirama’s face press further next to his and would not let go of his tense hold. “Do you,” he began again a bit stronger but no less pleading, “wish to stop dancing with me?”

Obito’s heart beat wildly in his chest. He tried to pull away, just enough to look at Hashirama’s face. He need to see his king’s face to understand what he was fully saying. But the Senju didn’t move, and kept his face firmly pressed against the Uchiha’s.

“Hashirama,” Obito fretted, his thoughts jumbled. He struggled a little in the Senju’s grasp. “Your Majes-”

“ _No_.” The word quickly quieted Obito’s mouth. It didn’t raise above their usual conversation but the tone was unyielding.

But Hashirama did finally pull away and the younger man was finally able to see his hardened face. His king’s lips were firmly pressed together, dark orbs barring down at Obito.

“Right now, I’m not your king,” he informed, stance solid even as they danced. Then his eyes softened and his face didn’t look so harsh. He ducked his face, eyes casted aside.

“I am just a man, Obito,” he continued softly. He glanced at the younger man through his lashes. “A man that just wants to know if you wish to stop dancing with me.”

Obito stared at the older man for a moment with a wide eye, because while, yes, Hashirama was just a man, there was  _so_ much more that he was saying. Then the Commander’s face grew tight, pained. “Hashirama....”

His king lifted his face higher as his own eyes widened.

The younger man’s hand that rested on Hashirama’s one shoulder moved until his arm was wrapped fully around. While he did, Obito brought his face closer so the taller man couldn’t hide. “Tell me what you mean by that,” he demanded. His voice was quiet but hard, a bit biting, but he had to know. Had to know what Hashirama meant by his words.

The older man’s eyes softened before he closed them. He didn’t speak for a moment, but Obito waited while his heart was beating fast.

“...I have held great affection for you,” Hashirama finally confessed, voice so quiet Obito could barely hear him. He opened his eyes until the two them where able to gaze at each other, and the Uchiha lost himself in his king’s dark orbs. So warm and soft, but filled with such  _longing_ that it stole his breath away.

“I have held great affection for you,” Hashirama repeated in the same tone. “For  _many_ years.”

When the words sank in, Obito felt a stinging sensation in his eye and closed it tightly, as he held back a sob, strangled in his throat. How many years had he long to hear those words? How many days and nights he had  _dreamed_ of Hashirama saying them to him?

_And was this all really happening right now?_

Then felt something press against him forehead. He snapped his eye open to see Hashirama had brought their faces closer together, resting his forehead against the younger man’s. His king’s diadem cut a little into his skin, but Obito couldn’t find he cared in that moment. Not when Hashirama’s eyes were first on his lips before they blinked and were suddenly looking at him again.

He trembled at his king’s gaze, so dark but warm- full of hope and promise but also concern. “Me too,” he gasped out, unable to stand it anymore and before the other man could question him, and watched as Hashirama’s eyes widened. “ _Me too.”_

“You mean-”

_“Yes.”_

Hashirama let out a strangled noise in the back of his throat, something Obito had never heard before. At it, something broke in the younger man’s chest and rose up to escape his mouth in a sound between a sob and a strangled laugh. The corners of his mouth turned upward in a wide grin and matched the one that grew on Hashirama’s face.

The Senju’s eyes widened more with hope as his arm tightened even stronger on Obito’s waist. “Then I ask again,” he asked quietly, his body shaking a little against the younger man’s, “do you want to stop dancing with me?”

Obito moved his face closer until the sides of their noses were rubbing together.  _“No,”_ he gasped as it felt like the breath was knocked out of his chest.

Hashirama made the same noise as before, and the Uchiha then noted it was a mix of a whine and a sob. He almost laughed again at it,  _because this was actually happening,_ when Hashirama closed his eyes and pressed forward more, practically collapsing onto him. Obito’s breath caught as their lips almost touched. “Then  _please_ ,” his king begged breathlessly, “please  _, don’t.”_

As if Obito ever would.

Instead of answering verbally, the younger man nodded as best he could as he closed his own eye.

As ridiculous as it was, somehow the both of them managed to continue dancing through their entire exchange, save for Obito’s minor hiccup. Even though it was just a long portion of just calm with no fancy footwork or throws, it almost made the Uchiha want to laugh hysterically but instead he focused on breathing, feeling Hashirama as the two of them continued to move.

Their bodies were pressed up tightly against each other, looking more like they were in a one armed hug while their hands were still raised and fingers now interlaced tightly. Obito imagined they made quite a sight. He found he couldn’t care less.

Not when Hashirama’s every breath caressed his face. Not when their noses would brush against each other in eskimo kisses, while their lips were barely inches away from one another. Not when the older man’s hand that was on his back was slowly moving up and down his spine comfortingly, but still made Obito shiver and breathless.

Not when he was still wondering if this wasn’t some crazy dream.

When the time of the dance where he usually pulled away came up, the hand on Hashirama’s shoulder bunched the fabric there as Obito held on for dear life. The older man responded in kind by pressing him impossibly closer.

Obito didn’t dare open his eye when the point passed. He knew the moment he did that he would break down and sob. Or worse, if this  _was_ some kind of dream, that Hashirama would fade away and he would be left alone, aching and broken.

But it felt to impossibly real to be a dream. And even in his wildest fantasies he never felt so sweet and warm. His chest felt tight but his body was weightless. Oddly, his muscles ached as the tension was released. Certainly in a dream it wouldn’t be there, right?

And while he pondered that, his mind began to recall his past interactions with Hashirama.  _“I have held great affection for you. For_ ** _many_** _years.”_

That is what Hashirama had said, and looking back on it, yes, there was a deep truth in his statement. Obito wondered if he really was a blind idiot that Kakashi always accused him of being.

Hashirama wasn’t a very subtle man, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. So Obito looked at each touch, each deep look, each talk they had, and felt his face flush. Because it was  _so obvious._

But Obito had brushed it off as something different. In his mind, there would be no  _way_ for Hashirama to feel the same, not with how he acted with Madara. But he never looked at the older Uchiha just a tad too long with a look Obito now recognized as longing. Never found reasons to touch and hold Madara the way he did with the younger man. Never laughed or talked in the same way he did to Obito.

Obito mentally cursed himself, feeling more foolish than ever that he would brush it all off as Hashirama being  _friendly._

His lips formed into a pout. He felt like he had wasted too much time since the laws had changed, just because he refused to see what was actually in front of him. As much as the Commander hated to admit it, Kakashi was  _very_ much in the right about him.

He was suddenly forced back from his thoughts when something warm and chapped pressed to the corner of his mouth. He gasped and snapped his eye open to see Hashirama’s serene one pull away to look at him. The corner of Obito’s mouth tingled where Hashirama’s mouth had been.

The older man’s gaze turned startled as he blinked. Then bits of questioning and concern bled in with the small amount of panic that Obito could see beginning to rise. He bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling idiotically, because it was  _more than fine_ with him. But instead of answering, he just leaned forward until his own lips were pressed near his king’s.

He wouldn’t call it a kiss, or at least, not a proper one. He merely skimmed over it, a promise of something more. He forced his eye to remain open and maintained contact with Hashirama’s. He watched as they widened as all previous emotions washed away before they became dark, heated, and  _wanting._ Obito couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped as he forced himself to pull away.

Hashirama let out a low whine as he tried to give chase but the Uchiha wouldn’t have it, at least not yet.

To ensure it, he ducked his face and pressed it into the Senju’s shoulder to hide. There, he greedily took the moment to take a deep breath and take in the other man’s scent.

When he heard the low whine again and couldn’t help but smirk. Then he felt the other man’s mouth right next to his ear.

“You tease me,” Hashirama complained with a little whine.

It made Obito’s smirk widen as he peeked out from his hiding spot just enough for his one eye to see the other man’s pouting face.

“It’s only teasing,” he chuckled with placating tone, “if you don’t plan to follow through.”

Hashirama’s eyes widened adorably as he grinned excitedly. He tried to duck down and kiss Obito a second time but the Uchiha turned away to hide his face again. “Not yet,” he promised just loud enough to be heard, muddled against the fabric. “Not here- in front of everyone.”

While he would love nothing more than to kiss Hashirama at that very moment, he also wanted it to be something special. He could care less about the people around them but the fact of the matter was, that even after a year, people were still trying to get used to the new laws. Too often he had seen people stop and stare while same sex couples walked the streets- just  _walking,_ not even kissing. Even in his daydreams, he refused to have his first kiss with Hashirama be a spectacle for everyone to gawk at.

He felt the other man stiffen against him, and Obito imagined it was because he remembered where they were as they danced. It made him chuckle before the older man relaxed again and place his head on top of the younger man’s.

“I understand,” he heard Hashirama whisper into his ear. Obito chuckled again and finally pulled away to see the other man’s soft look that matched his own. Then another complicated part of the dance came and they lost themselves in the movements.

It felt like he was breathing for the first time while they continued to dance. They laughed and talked like before but it felt so different now. There was no impending dread sitting in his chest, drowning him. Now, he could hold Hashirama the way he wanted, ignoring those looks from the crowd, and just  _know_ that the other man felt the same way.

And if the way the king held him, Hashirama felt the same. When he would twirl Obito away, there was more force behind when the Uchiha was pulled back.

In a more complicated move, Obito was turned to face the crowd and Hashirama pulled him close to his chest, more than what a dance partner should. While he was still smiling, the position made the Commander blush with how near he was, firmly against the other man. And then his king’s hand came to rest on the Uchiha’s lower abs and pressed him even closer which only made Obito blush harder.

Then Hashirama pressed his face into the younger man’s hair as they began to step forward in mimicked steps. Obito could feel the smile at the back of his head and he felt himself smiling broader in response.

They even teased each other, no longer inhibited and since no one would dare make a scene at the Royal Ball. Hashirama would try to kiss him again without actually trying to. When Obito would turn away, those kisses ended up on his cheek, the side of his head, or anywhere else that Hashirama hadn’t seemed to kiss. In retaliation, Obito would hide his face in Hashirama’s neck and speak, and would enjoy the shiver Hashirama had every time.

By the end of the dance, they had grown quiet but there was none of the tension that held them back. Obito’s head rested against his king’s shoulder as they softly spoke to one another, with the older man sometimes rubbing his cheek on top of the Commander’s head. The song was slowly fading, and they began to slow along with it.

The ending of the dance was supposed to stop with the king and his partner coming still in the center of the dance floor as when they started. Normally, Hashirama would bow and escort his partner off the floor, but when they stopped and pulled apart, the older man took both of Obito’s hands in his and held them as they both gazed at each other with smiles on their faces. The room was dead quiet but Obito didn’t bother to look around, too enamored with his king and revelled too much in the warmth in his chest.

He watched as Hashirama raised his head a tad higher and puffed out his chest. “First Commander Obito of the House of Uchiha,” declared formally and loudly for the room, “I have chosen you.” As he spoke, he slowly lowered himself to the ground until he was kneeling on one knee.

Obito stared at him with a wide eye, but neither of them broke eye contact. Hashirama squeezed his hands and finished, “Will you give me the honor, and choose me too?”

Obito practically crushed Hashirama’s hands in his while it felt like his heart was trying to break out of his chest. With a tight throat, he managed to nod. “Yes,” he croaked as he tried to make his voice loud and failed. “Of course. Always.”

The responding boundlessly bright smile took Obito’s breath away. He leaned down to wrap his arms around Hashirama just as the older man came right up and caught him. Obito was swept off his feet as he was twirled around in the air while Hashirama roared with laughter, full of delight and dazzling. The Uchiha responded with an answering laugh with his arms wrapped around the other man’s shoulder and placed his face into Hashirama’s silk locks.

When Hashirama placed him back down on the ground, with small tears falling from both their eyes, Obito decided the thundering applause of the room could never compare to the one of his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! If you like more HashiObi content, please feel free to check out more of my stuff on AO3.
> 
> And if you want to talk that isn't through reviews here, you can send me a message at malakia215.tumblr.com (I will most likely respond to them there tbh.) I will not ask that you follow, cause, really, my tumblr is for my interests and may not be for everyone.
> 
> And if anyone asks: yes, I might turn this into a series or a chapter fic but don't go holding your breath because I have SO MANY HashiObi ideas that I would like to focus on them first.
> 
> BUH-BYE!


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